Page 4 of Alpha’s One-Night Stand (Shifters of Clarion #3)

“ E xcuse me, Mr. Robertson? I’m here to pick you up.”

I look up to see a man in a black suit and a hat over what is clearly a balding head speaking to me as I pass him by. I look around for a moment to confirm that he is actually speaking with me. He is.

“I’m sorry,” I say to him. “Do I know you?”

“No, sir.” He’s got a crisp British accent and an emotionless face. There is nothing in his features that I would characterize as memorable. Just a standard man in a black suit.

“My name is Cid,” he goes on. “I’m your mother’s driver. She sent me to collect you from the airport.”

Great. “And why isn’t she here?”

“She’s preparing for the ceremony, sir. May I?” He leans toward my bag, and I flinch away from him.

“There will be no need for that,” I reply. He may be my mother’s driver, but he’s a stranger to me still. I’m not about to let him take my bags. “Lead the way.”

He nods in a short and succinct way, then leads me outside to a black SUV on the curb. He unlocks the back with a press of the button on his key fob, then lifts it up so I can put my bag away. I throw my luggage in, then settle into the backseat.

As we drive through town, I can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over me. Back in my school days, I walked through these streets between classes and on vacations when I wasn’t invited back home. Although those were dark years, I had some good times, too. Thinking about them makes me smile a little. Having lunch at the coffee shop on Nort Street, taking a girl out on a date at the movie theatre on Tremble, sneaking backstage at a concert at the Butterfly Theatre.

The familiar streets and buildings are bringing back so many memories. I have to set them aside for the moment, however. This trip has been a rather strange one so far. I can’t stop thinking about that woman’s scent. Sweet, floral . . . and something else. Something I can’t put my finger on. I’ve been seriously considering tracking it, even though it disappeared in the wind as soon as I walked out of the airport. I’m an Alpha wolf, though. I can track anything I put my mind to.

The curious thing about that scent was the way my body reacted almost immediately. When I sat down next to her, my wolf stirred, eager to be let out. I maintained my composure until I got on the plane, but the second I caught wind of it again, my body reacted even more strongly. I felt like I was on fire with arousal and excitement. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but all I wanted to do find the scent and . . . and . . .

I hadn’t thought about what might come after that. The feeling was a mix of wanting to tear something apart and wanting to fuck until I dropped. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite that way before in my life. In some small way, I long for that scent. To feel like that in a safe space, to be able to release my wolf with abandon on the wings of it. I simply can’t imagine the passion that it might elicit in me.

I’ve been told by Mother and by certain elders that a mate can have that effect on you. Sometimes you get excited just by being near them. Certain times of the moon’s cycle cause those tensions to rise, and you lose control in the best ways. These are all stories from the last generation, though. Usually linked with antiquated rituals about the Moon Goddess and the like.

It’s all a nice fairy tale to think about. Mates destined to be together. Finding each other and staying together for life. It’s all bullshit, though. Mother’s separation from my father is proof of that. As far as I’m concerned, there’s just no such thing as a fated mate.

The car slows down as we approach the high wrought-iron gates of Moonhelm coming up. It looks exactly the same. After all these years, no one’s thought to change out those stupid rusty gates.

“Your private quarters have been arranged,” Cid says as the gate slides open to allow us entry. “Your mother has asked, however, that you stay the night in her quarters tonight.”

I frown at him through the rearview mirror. “Why?”

“I don’t know, sir. I’m only delivering her message.”

He doesn’t say anything more to that, and we continue driving up the cobblestone path toward the school. Mother could be so insistent about things, but she rarely does anything without reason. My wolf awakens again, suddenly enraged. It’s hot in here. I can’t breathe . . .

“Stop the car.”

Cid pauses, looking back at me through the rearview mirror. “Pardon me?”

“Let me out.” The car stops and I get out, stumbling onto the cobblestone pavement. I loosen my tie and let the air into my lungs, closing my eyes and leaning against the car. “Stand down,” I whisper to my wolf. “For fuck’s sake . . . stand down. ”

Cid has gotten out of the car and is now watching me carefully. I turn away from him, my wolf starting to calm as I push it back. Shit, it seems to be getting worse.

But then, I don’t know what I was expecting. I’m exhausted from traveling, and the less sleep I get the harder it is to control my wolf. I hope this ceremony isn’t a long one. I’m just not in the right head space for such a thing. All I need is help, and I need it as soon as possible. I don’t know why I even have to be here otherwise.

As my wolf relaxes, I take a second and look down the road at the building looming over us. Dark stone bricks stack up into three towers, and the heavy wooden front doors take up about half the height of the building itself. Gargoyles, stone statues, pomp and circumstance. I’m amazed at how little has changed. It still looks like a dark harbinger stealing away the sunlight.

“Sir? Are you well?” Cid asks, his head tilted toward me. I nod and straighten my suit jacket. Better get this whole thing over with.

“I’m fine.”